Promises
by Redundant Goddess
Summary: Promises: So hard to keep, yet so very easy to break. Leaving hurt in their wake. Howver, sometimes the promises that are kept are the ones that hurt the most.  Formly 'The Things We Promised  Rated for Language, Adult Themes and Horror.
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(Disclaimer: All characters are property of Capcom. I don't a thing.

_A/N: So... I've decided after a year or so of fiddling to upload this fic again. I know, I'm a terrible person and those who actually read the original version of this may ask why I took it down in the first place. Welp, I didn't like how I portrayed Sherry in the first chapters, I made her seem like a total cry baby, which to me she isn't. But mainly because I didn't like where it was heading. Plus, everytime I re-read it I just made me wanna burn it. However, if you don't like this redux version (which is almost complete. I mean, I'm one chapter or two from finishing this bad boy) then you can find the original on my deviant page, which you can find the link for on my author profile. So, here I am uploading this fic again, hoping you guys will find it in your hearts to give this fic another go, because the reviews I got from you guys were so wonderful and supportive, I just wish the original could've lived up to your expectations. Any hoo, I hope you guys enjoy. Peace out. R.G. xxx)  
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><p><strong><span>Promises...<span>**

_By The Redundant Goddess..._

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_January 2006..._

Steve had never been so glad in his life as when he finally opened the door and was greeted with the musty dank smell of an overly cheap motel room.

_Home sweet home…_

He took off the crappy plastic sunglasses he had been wearing to hide his unnatural eyes, and studied the room. It wasn't that bad, not the Ritz, but not a total shit-hole either. In other words, it was all he had come to expect.

The drive to Colorado had been a tiresome one to say the least, especially when the heap of junk a certain Sherry Birkin had insisted on buying had broken down half way there. He inwardly growled at the memory. Of course he was the one that had to get out and hit the damn thing till it worked again. Not that he usually minded of course. Hell, hitting things till they either worked or stopped working altogether was something he seemed to excel at these days; not too mention it was a good way to relieve stress. Not today though. Not no way, and not no how. Colorado got incredibly cold during January and if there was one thing Steve hated more than stupid broken down cars, it was the cold.

The redhead really loathed the cold and anything to do with it. He hadn't been all too keen on it when he had been fully human, and he certainly wasn't fond of it now. The cold had a way of being able to slip past his tough, mutated flesh and chill him to the bone; no matter how many thermal layers he covered himself in. Worse still, it made his hands and feet ache terribly and caused his joints become so stiff, at times he felt like a distorted week old pretzel. Another effect of the cold was that found he tired more easily than he had become accustomed too, which didn't help for those oh so life-threateningly important getaways.

Not too mention it made him short tempered, moody and seriously grumpy.

_Seriously fucking grumpy_.

Sherry had helpfully theorised that this weakness to colder climates was due to the reptilian/ insect like attributes he had acquired from the Alexia incident. That and the fact his body seemed to be in a state of constant mutation due to whatever Wesker had used to 'Wake' him up. To Steve it was like having a lottery machine for a body. He never knew what freakish thing would appear next. One day he would just have long nails, the next he might have a freakishly bony tail. Some days were better than others, but on the whole there wasn't much they could really do about it apart from to wrap him up and hope for the best. The blonde had told him he should be thankful he was still somewhat warm-blooded, besides a few aches and pains during the colder months; Steve was generally in good health… for a Tyrant anyway.

Surprisingly, none of that hadn't made Steve feel any better.

_Stupid fucking mutated messed up body of mine._

Still, they had somehow made it to the motel in one piece and that was the main thing. A dark, dingy and seriously dank motel, but it had a bed_…right?_ Steve sighed restlessly; it seemed as if the whole world was against him.

"Why Colorado?" Steve whined softly, as he threw himself onto the bed, not even bothering to take his shoes off. Within a minute the man had managed to roll himself into some sort of Tyrant Duvet Taco. The redhead sighed in relief as the aches and pains in his joints started to slowly ebb away. " Hawaii would've been nice, so would California. Hell even New York…but Colorado?"

Sherry just ignored him, not even bothering to 'tut' at him or scold him. Instead she simply rolled her eyes, and headed for the bathroom with her Toothbrush and a large tube of Toothpaste in hand.

Underneath the covers the elder B.O.W. listened idly to the young woman vigorously scrub her pearly whites. The blonde always brushed her teeth as soon as they checked in anywhere. Steve had thought it weird at first. A strange little ritual that he didn't think he would ever truly understand. Not that he gave two shits either way, but he couldn't stop wondering about it from time to time though.

Maybe she was adamant about preventing gum disease? Maybe she liked to have fresh breath after a long journey? Or maybe she just liked having an excuse to avoid Steve, if only for five minutes.

He doubted he'd ever truly know, but at that moment he was leaning heavily towards the later theory.

Steve frowned.

_There's something I need to check_…

That was all the blonde had told him the entire time they were on the road. When he had pressed her on what it was that had made her drive half way across America from a relatively warm state to an unthinkably cold one, Sherry did her very best to dodge the question.

"It's nothing, just something I need to look into." She had said, unconvincingly.

When that had failed to keep him quiet, Sherry tried to throw him by abruptly changing the subject every now and then. She had even started talking about porn at one point. However, Steve could tell when his blonde friend was trying pull the wool over his eyes and decided to just keep bugging her till she cried 'Uncle' and caved.

However the young woman didn't cave. Instead Sherry had damn near crashed the truck and stated that if he didn't stop being such a 'whiny bitch', then the spare tyre would find itself lodged somewhere incredibly unpleasant, I.E Steve's ass.

_Maybe I shouldn't have made the joke about PMS-ing…_

Then after the break down fiasco, Sherry had barely said a word to him. Not that she had spoken to him much in the first place.

_There's something I need to check_…

If there was one thing Steve Burnside hated more than stupid broke down cars and the cold; it was the feeling of being purposefully left in the dark.

_Oh, and cute little blondes, who won't tell me what's up._

Something was seriously off.

In fact, about two weeks before they had set out for Colorado, Steve had noticed a definite change in Sherry. One day she had been her normal, irritatingly sweet self and then the next... BAM! The blonde's behaviour had become quiet (well more quiet than normal), weirdly secretive, and overwhelmingly anxious.

Not that Sherry becoming a little 'down' hadn't happened before.

_Who can blame her? Considering what we've been through I think we're allowed a little emo time every now and then…_

But this was different.

Usually if Sherry felt depressed or upset about anything, she would brood for a day (whilst doing her best to hide it from him) then come to him and cry on his should solidly the next. Two days and a little bit of TLC and she would be as right as rain.

However, for the past two weeks, for days on end she would be either sat at her laptop working till ridiculous hours in the morning on god knows what or pacing away, palm top in hand, cursing and generally being an ill tempered brat. And then there were the times were he came in from grabbing them some take out to find her on their bed, chewing her lips to pieces, looking as if she might burst into tears at any given moment. Her usually energetic pale blue eyes now held a dull, hollow look. It seemed like the weight of the entire world had been unceremoniously dumped on her shoulders overnight and all she could do was just let it drag her down.

Steve had tried to help her the best he could, deciding it would be best to give her time to work out what ever it was she was going through and let Sherry come to him when she was good and ready, like she always did. But after awhile he could tell she wasn't in any hurry to confide in him. The distance he had given her didn't seem to be helping at all. In fact, it seemed to make her worse. So he decided enough was enough. He had to talk to her. Get to the bottom of things. But trying to get the blonde to open up proved incredibly difficult, especially since she seemed to be avoiding him altogether.

However the times Steve did manage to corner her and ask her if she was okay, he never got much out of her. All he had gotten in return were poorly faked smiles and dismissive nods. Sherry, it seemed, couldn't even be bothered to do her usual trick of trying to conceal her troubles with a brave face. Steve didn't know what was going on inside his friend's head, but the person that currently occupied their crappy motel bathroom was definitely not the fun, smart arsed and annoyingly mild mannered woman he knew and… well… _cared a lot about_.

The decision to go to Colorado had been somewhat of a shock. It was so sudden and made at such short notice, not like Sherry at all. By that point Steve had gone beyond concerned. He was worried sick. Usually the blonde would tell him way in advance if she were even thinking of looking for somewhere else to hide. She never left him out of any decision, even the grocery list, and this had been the norm ever since they had met back in that research lab all those years ago. It was how their relationship worked.

_We're a team, No wait! Best friends, No... Well I don't know what we are, but I know we're something._

However, not this time.

Something was definitely up.

What the hell is going on?

It didn't help matters when the older B.O.W.'s innate sense of paranoia kicked into overdrive. Steve's mind couldn't stop conjuring up every possible worst-case scenario, including the more ridiculous ones. Although Steve somehow couldn't quite believe Sherry had an evil twin…_ A clone maybe …_

But still, he couldn't stop worrying.

Were they in trouble and if they were why wouldn't she tell him? Was Wesker onto them again? Was she sick?

But trying to figure out Sherry was like trying to disarm a nuclear device, whilst wearing thick mittens: Something you'd like to be able to do, but would ultimately fail at and end up suffering the most horrific death imaginable. _Or is this just how men generally feel about trying to understand women? _Needless to say his sense of helplessness about the whole situation had begun to grate on him.

However, there was one question that irritated the redhead the most about the whole Sherry 'Situation'.

_Why won't she let me help her?_

When they had still been under Wesker's 'care' he had made Sherry a promise to keep her safe; to look out for her whenever she needed it. To be there for her, through thick and thin, no matter what happened.

_I know underneath that entire cute, quiet blonde thing she's got going on, Sherry's one tough cookie. But there's no way I'd trust her out there by herself! With so many people after us, after her...Lord knows what would happen to her? Hell, why else would I be here? Well, apart from her looking after me when I go all 'Steve-Zilla', not treating me like a freak and…well… just being Sherry._

But now it seemed that there was something he couldn't help her with, something he couldn't protect her from. No matter how hard he tried to help, she just turned away. Why? There was obviously something going on with her, so why wouldn't she let him in?

_Or maybe Sherry doesn't need me anymore. _

Steve's stomach dropped and felt something constrict his heart at the thought, although it would certainly explain a lot. The moodiness, the distance… To be honest Steve had been amazed at how long Sherry had stuck with him.

_Living with a constantly mutating time bomb couldn't be much fun. No matter how understanding you are..._

Maybe Sherry had finally had enough of him and their high maintenance life style? Maybe she just wanted to settle down in the middle of nowhere by herself and live that normal life she had always been denied. Maybe this was her way of subtly telling him to 'fuck off'? If that was the case; then why now and why didn't she just tell him? Had he done something to upset her? Apart from the past two weeks everything between them had been pretty much great. Perfect, fantastically perfect even. So fantastically perfect Steve couldn't actually believe he could've been so happy given his situation and he was pretty sure Sherry had felt the same way.

So what the hell had happened?

Or maybe it really is nothing…

Steve's brow creased into a scowl and felt annoyed at him self for getting so worked up over something so utterly ridiculous. Who cared if Sherry was acting crazy and not telling him shit? Girls did that all the time, right? It wasn't the end of the world. Why the hell should he worry himself stupid over a probably overly hormonal Sherry? _She's a big girl now she can do what she wants…_ He felt his heart clench painfully again.

He really didn't like this one bit.

"So are you gonna tell me what hell is up with you or are you just gonna hide in there for the rest of the damn night?" He spoke and shattered the tense silence, his voice filled with infantile sarcasm.

The blonde poked her head around the bathroom door; toothpaste smeared around her mouth, and gave him a 'Don't even start with me' glare. The sort of glare her 'Uncle' had perfected and used with deadly accuracy. Sherry's version might've been less potent, but it could still stop a man in his tracks at fifty paces even with a toothpaste beard. It certainly worked on Steve.

_Okay, that came out a lot pissier than I intended it too, but at least I got her attention._

"What?" He shot back defensively and returned the glare the best he could.

Sherry said nothing; instead she merely shook her head and returned to the bathroom to rinse her mouth out.

The red head let out a frustrated growl and sat up on the bed, making sure the covers were still tightly wrapped around him. He'd be damned if he froze to death just on her ladyship's behalf.

"Come on Sherry! What's the big fucking deal? Why won't you just tell me already?"

However his demand was met with only more silence. _Fine, I'll try something else…_

"Is it something to do with Umbrella?" He asked.

No reply.

"Is it something to do with Wesker?"

Still nothing.

"Did I do something wrong?" Steve cursed under his breath and clenched his teeth in sheer frustration. Was she ever going to say a god damned word? "Seriously are you, like, dying or something?"

That seemed to do the trick.

"Steve!" Sherry finally cried out and threw her hands above her head frantically as she exited the bathroom. She stared at him, eyes no longer pissed or annoyed. Instead there were just tired and worn out. Her shoulders sagged as she shook her head slowly, her long blonde hair covering her exhausted expression. She seemed so much older then. The woman turned to him and begged. "Look, why can't you just drop it? I've told you it's nothing, okay? Nothing! I swear! I just need to-."

"'Check something out?' Right, I know you told me already!" He bit out irritably. "And I would've dropped it a while ago if you weren't acting so god damn crazy! Seriously what the hell is going on with you Sherry? Christ, you've got me thinking some seriously fucked up things! But hey, why would you care?"

"Steve…" She groaned and ran a hand through her hair. Her voice was barely a whisper and filled with something he wasn't sure of. "I'm sorry okay. Of course I care. I care a lot, but…"

"Then what? What is so bad that you can't tell me? Come on Sherry, after everything we've been through, after everything that's happened!" He pleaded softly and hoped that this time he had gotten through to her. "Please…"

However Sherry didn't respond. Instead her cheeks flushed red, and her eyes fell to the floor, unable to keep eye contact with him. She looked almost ashamed of something, as if she had done something wrong. Had he been right? Was she really planning on leaving him?

For the second time that evening, his heart gave a painful lurch and his face fell. That wasn't the answer he had hoped for. Even though she had neither confirmed nor denied it, to his paranoia filled mind her silence had spoke volumes. Steve had put two and two together and he didn't like the answer, in fact it had hurt. A lot more than he thought it would. Steve felt his temper flare and his control begin to slip. He knew he should try to keep calm, for both their sakes and the people around them. But he having been on edge for far too long, it was hard to hold back.

"I see, so that's how is it? You don't want to be around my sorry mutated, screwed up ass anymore right?" He snarled.

Sherry's head snapped up, eyes wide and genuinely shocked. Disbelief had planted itself firmly on her face, her mouth agape. She had even begun to shake she was so upset.

"What?" She stuttered unable to even string a simple sentence together she was that stunned by Steve's cutting remark. It had really been a low blow. "That's so not true and you know it! I… I - I would never-! How could you even think I would-?"

"Then why the hell won't you tell me why the fuck we are in Colorado, and what the fuck is wrong with you?" He yelled.

Steve growled and felt aggravation pulse through him. Sherry had pushed his patience far enough and now his darker instincts were beginning to take over; his body literally itched for a fight. It was just as well it was cold, otherwise 'Steve-Zilla' might have already made an appearance.

"Fuck this! Look if you want me gone fine, but just fuckin' say so, 'cause to be honest with you dragging me half way across the country to dump me in some snowed up hell hole is the wrong way to go about it."

"Excuse me?" She said incredulously her face still red only this time more out of anger than something else. " Drag you here? I have never dragged you anywhere! How dare you make me out like I'm the bad person here! You're the one who complained all the way here, you're the one who teased me and berated me every damn minute we were in that god damn truck! "

"That's only 'cause you wouldn't say a god damn word to me!"

"So what? That gives you the right to say whatever the hell you want? You know what, moan all you want, but you chose to come with me. You could've stayed behind you know!" The blonde hissed out. Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"Yeah, and maybe I should've!" He spat and before he knew something far worse wormed it's way out of his mouth. "Hell, maybe I should've stayed in that lab, because anything is better than this!"

He instantly regretted his incredibly poor choice of words, as Steve witnessed the blonde's face fall.

Both fell into a difficult, heavy silence as they stared at each other, wide eyed and hurt.

"Sherry…" He began, his voice nothing but a low whisper. Fearing anything louder would only make things worse. It didn't seem to work, as the blonde had already closed down again. Her face became un-nervingly calm and her eyes went blank. She started to pull her hair into a loose ponytail.

"It doesn't matter." She muttered absently, refusing to look at him.

"Sherry, I didn't mean it…" He trailed off and tried to figure out how to get out of the hell he had found himself in.

"No, it's fine."

The woman picked up her laptop case, which she almost dropped because of her shaking hands, the keys to the truck and headed for the door. She turned to Steve briefly and smiled stiffly, her eyes fixed firmly on the space just above the older B.O.W.S head.

"I'm going to see if I can pick up a connection anywhere around here, just…just go to bed and we'll talk about it in the morning, okay?"

"Shit! Sher…" He pleaded, whilst wishing a big black hole would appear in the ceiling and swallow him up whole.

But his pleas fell on deaf ears, as Sherry opened the door and let herself slip through; she stopped before the door slammed it self shut. Steve felt a spark of hope that the blonde would stay and talk this through. However all hope was dashed when she spoke.

"Oh, and by the way you're melting." She added quietly, before closing the door.

The tyrant blinked and touched his fingers the side of his face, and inspected them. The tips were stained with the slick skin coloured residue of his camouflage.

_Shit!_

The redhead snarled and collapsed down onto the bed with an amazingly loud 'thump'_. _

_Yes the world really does hate me…_

He let his red eyes study the horrid tobacco stained textured ceiling for another minute in the hopes that black hole he had prayed for earlier would make a show, and when it didn't he let out a strangled roar. His outburst made the light fittings in the room shake, and when he had quite finished only one thought ran through his mind.

_Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!_

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><p>A few miles west of the motel, the blonde sat idly in the cab of her truck. It was so cold Sherry could see her breath exit her mouth in ghostly puffs. She knew her teeth should be chattering, but they weren't. She didn't feel the cold the same way Steve did or anyone else for that matter.<p>

_The perks of being related to people who liked playing God I guess… _

Sitting there, she felt strands of guilt quicken through her body like mercury. Her stomach churned. She felt terrible about her fight with Steve. After all, it wasn't actually his fault.

She bit her lip.

It had been hard to believe, but years of patient digging had finally paid off. Sherry had found what they had been looking for. And now she knew for certain, the proof was right in front of her.

Finally she could make good on her promise.

She smiled bitterly, as she started up the engine and headed back to the motel. Her heart heavy, as if it had been lined with lead.

_I'm keeping my promise Steve...even if it kills me._

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	2. 2

(Disclaimer: All Characters are property of Capcom. I don't own a thing.)**  
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><p><strong><span>Promises...<span>**

_By The Redundant Goddess._

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**Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuz Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuz buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuz**

The first thing Steve distinctly noticed when he blearily realised he had woken up, was that he was most definitely alone. He didn't even need to be fully awake to know that. All he needed to do was to point his nose at the world outside his bed and inhale. He could smell the mould in the walls; the dust encrusted tops of the curtains and the hint of cheap bleach that someone might've used to 'clean' the horror that was the toilet at some point. But the one thing he couldn't detect was the subtle and warm scent of Sherry. It was quite a unique scent, a strange mixture of wheat, honey and something he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was comforting and familiar. Something Steve had secretly enjoyed waking up to every morning since his escape from the facility.

However it wasn't there and from that alone, he could tell the blonde hadn't returned that night.

The second thing he noticed was that it was already nearing mid morning. The winter sun was no doubt streaming through the awful tobacco stained curtains; another reason to keep his eyes firmly shut. The red head groaned and buried deeper into the warm covers. That meant he had only managed to catch two hours sleep.

_Great, just fucking great…_

Okay, so he had been frustrated to point of mutating. And, Sherry hadn't exactly helped the situation and yes, he may have been suffering from the effects of the cold climate, but what the hell? Where the hell did he get off shouting at her like that? Where had it all come from?

The girl had done so much for so little. What the hell had she really done to deserve any of his shitty attitude?

I really am a fucking asshole; no scratch that, monster…

That was pretty much all of what had gone through Steve's mind the entire night.

All he could do was lie there in bed, alone and go over the whole sorry mess in his head over and over again. He thought of the things he had said, all the things he should've said, and all the things he shouldn't have and no matter how hard he tried, Steve just couldn't sleep. Perhaps it was all that excess adrenaline running through his veins at an alarming rate that had kept him on edge, or maybe it was the cold climate just fucking with him. But in truth it was just good old-fashioned regret and lord, did he regret letting his darker nature get the better of him.

He tried to console himself by watching some god-awful film on the ancient excuse of a television and, even though it was amusing in some places, he couldn't even manage a chuckle. He just couldn't stop thinking about every stupid word he uttered from his incredibly stupid mouth.

Shit I haven't felt this bad since the first time I met Sherry and almost killed her…Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuz Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuz buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuz

_What the fuck is that buzzing sound?_

Steve snarled and kicked the thick covers off of him. The shock of the cold air hitting his naked chest snapped him out of his groggy daze. He winced. The shrill noise cut through his over sensitive hearing like a rusty chain trying to saw its way through an iron-gate. In his sleep deprived state Steve's main priority shifted from worrying about the wayward blonde to making the noise stop. So after a few moments of bleary-eyed fumbling, he managed to find the source of the irritating buzzing and flung it as hard and as far away as he possibly could.

_See this is why Sherry should always be here. She makes all bad noises stop…_The redhead grumbled and flopped back down on the bed, trying hard to find the patches that were still warm. _Where is she? I hope... Shit, shouldn't she have called by now? She usually does…_

After about a minute, red eyes finally snapped open to full alertness when it finally dawned on him exactly what that said object had been. He leapt from the bed and with a great burst of speed only a born again Tyrant could possess and rushed over to find that stupid phone. He seriously hoped he hadn't broken it. Luckily the cell phone had bounced off a tacky looking vase and somehow landed safely onto their soft hold all's.

Steve breathed a sigh of relief as his hands fumbled to flip the phone open only to discover two missed text messages.

Msg received 8:38am

**Frm: LittleMissB-86**

**Hey. R u awake yet? We need 2 talk.**

**S X xX**

He moved quickly to the second. Panic gripped him and sent a familiar unnatural rush up and down spine as he considered the possibility that Sherry might've actually left him or worse, that she was in danger.

**Msg received 9:56am**

**Frm: LittleMissB-86**

**Hey again, guess ur still asleep. Wen u get up come to the diner opposite the motel. I'll be w8ting… **

**S X xX**

Steve sighed in slight relief; at least she wasn't dead. He looked at the clock; it had just gone quarter past ten.

"Shit!" He hissed and raced to the bathroom, whilst simultaneously praying to every known god the blonde was still waiting for him.

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><p>When the older B.O.W. finally made it to the diner it was close to eleven o'clock. He found Sherry sat in a small booth at the back, with several empty cups of Coffee piled up in front of her. Her dark blonde hair was messy and skin much paler than usual. To put it bluntly, she looked like crap. But then again, Steve guessed he looked a hell of a lot worse. The young man hadn't had time to shower, as it took too long to apply his damn camo. And to top it off, for the second day running, he hadn't had time to put in the coloured contact lenses Sherry had gone to all the trouble of getting him. Steve felt himself flush with remorse and fixed his sunglasses nervously.<p>

"Hey…"

"Hey." She sat up and offered him a small weak smile. "You got my message then?"

"Yeah…"

An overly made-up forty something waitress promptly interrupted, note pad in hand. Before Steve had a chance to even consider if he was even hungry, Sherry ordered for him; One large coffee, blacker than black, with a full stack of blueberry pancakes and as much bacon the Cook could afford to put on a plate. It was only after the slightly stunned bleach blonde had left, did Steve realise that was exactly what he wanted. But then Sherry always seemed to know what he wanted. Shame he couldn't exactly say the same.

Another uncomfortable moment passed. Each exchanged sheepish glances when they figured the other wasn't looking, smiling stiffly like when they caught each other. Neither wanting to make the first move, say the first word. Steve even started to softly whistle out of tune, anything to ease the stalemate they had found themselves in. However in the end, there was no avoiding it. Someone was going to have to say something sooner or later, so the Redhead figured it might as well be him.

_I kinda started this… it's only fair right?_

With a sigh, he cleared his throat lamely, and prayed the words would come to him.

"So, about last night…"

"Don't worry about it." She shrugged and drained the remains of her coffee. "We were both tired and I know how you get when you're cold. These things happen I guess."

He opened his mouth to argue, but the blonde stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Steve, I said it's fine. Okay?"

The look on Sherry's face told him not to press the issue. Her mind was made up, no more room for discussion.

_Water under the bridge, and all that shit._

"So… we're cool?"

"Yeah, we're cool."

"Okay then."

Steve paused for a second, unsure of exactly what to say next. It was obvious things were still 'Not okay' between them, any fool could tell. Hell, even the harsh looking waitress probably knew things were not 'Okay' between the two of them. Still, Steve figured it would be in his best interest to play along for the moment. _I mean she did ask me here, so maybe she does have something to say… right?_

"So… what exactly did you want to talk about then? Cause you know…we're not exactly talking..."

"Yeah, that." She bit her lip and played with her empty cup. "Last night after our…er… disagreement I did some more digging on that 'thing' I've been working on."

"The 'thing' you brought us here for, but won't tell me what it is?"

A brief gratified smile flashed across her face as the waitress finally arrived with two full plates and dumped them down, unceremoniously in front of the peckish Tyrants. Within two seconds Steve could no longer resist the aroma of all that food and delved in, taking no prisoners. There was a reason why he was never allowed in the canteen back in the facility.

"Well, I had a break through."

"You did?"

"Yep."

"Well, that's great I guess."

"I hope so; it's for your benefit."

The redhead stopped mid chew and raised an eyebrow. Concern etched across his face as he studied the blonde warily.

"Really?"

"Really, Really." She nodded.

"Okay." Steve swallowed his mouthful uneasily. Now that made him even more suspicious. "So, are you going to tell me more about this 'thing'?"

Sherry dipped a hand into her jacket pocket and produced a slip of neatly folded pink paper. She slid it toward him.

The Tyrant studied it carefully, allowing a smirk at the choice of paper, before he opened it to reveal the note's contents. The smirk vanished however when he read it. He even re-read it twice just to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Steve shot Sherry a perplexed look.

She just smiled nervously back and started to chew on her lip again.

It was an address.

"Let me guess…You want me to go there?"

The blonde simply nodded and turned her eyes away from him.

"Why?" He asked bewilderedly.

Sherry's hands retreated to the comfort of her overly baggy tracksuit jacket and shrugged dismissively.

"You'll see."

The older B.O.W's left eyebrow twitched out of habit and he groaned inwardly.

Why do things have to be so damned difficult all the damn time?

He was about to make an annoyed comment about why she was being so damned secretive, but then he caught the look on Sherry's face, her tired eyes and sad smile. The same look he had seen for the past two weeks, the same expression she had worn last night when he had said all those awful things to her. He felt his guts twist and his cheeks begin to heat for the ump-tenth time that morning. The red head sighed, shook his head and took another bite of his breakfast.

If going to where ever the hell this was and seeing whatever it was Sherry had found would make her smile again, then he would do it. Even if it meant going out into the freezing cold in that shitty pickup when he was far too tired and pissed off to think straight. He would do it, for her.

He had promised after all.

"Okay, fine I'll go." He sighed and inhaled another piece of syrupy bacon. "But after breakfast."

Steve expected Sherry's reaction to be a happy one, if not somewhat pleased. Perhaps, even get a proper smile instead of those damn depressive things she had been giving him for his troubles. However that didn't happen. Instead the blonde stared out the window sadly.

"Good." She muttered and bit her lip hard.

Call it a hunch, but somehow Steve knew this wasn't going to end well.

* * *

><p><em>Liked it? Loathed It? Want to stick it with the T-virus?<em>

_R+R_


	3. 3

Disclaimer: All characters are property of Capcom. I don't a thing.

* * *

><p><strong><span>Promises...<span>**

_By The Redundant Goddess..._

_-3-_

Steve swore under his breath, as he shivered for the ump-tenth time.

He had been stuck inside the truck for all of twenty minutes, but even in that short space of time Steve was sure his fingers, toes and a couple of other dangly bits he'd rather not mention, were about to drop off from frostbite.

_So what if I am decked from head to toe in thermal gear, it's still fucking cold! _

If Sherry were there with him, she would've just smacked him upside the head for being such a baby… but she wasn't.

He snorted bitterly at the thought of the blonde, who was most likely huddled up in their warm motel room, un-doubtedly continuing to be an utter misery, but at least she was warm. Oh so nice and toasty warm.

Steve sighed, as he cupped his gloved hands to his lips and blew on them in a lame attempt to keep warm. Puffs of heated breath wafted in front of his sunglasses as he yawned.

Evening had fallen and whilst he would've gone out earlier on in the day, it seemed Sherry had felt guilty about Steve's lack of sleep and for some reason allowed him the luxury of a long nap before heading off. She had even sat next to him on the bed whilst he had dozed. A peace gesture perhaps? But it had been nice; feeling the blonde's presence next to him again as he slipped in and out of comfortable slumber. It would've been even better if she had lay there with him, tucked into his side, just like old times. However, Steve was grateful she had just been there.

She always makes it easier to drop off…

And when he had woken up, it was a lot later than he had intended. However Sherry didn't seem to mind, which had thrown him. Sherry hadn't said she was coming with him, but the older B.O.W had pretty much worked out that she wouldn't. But Steve had thought she would've been keen to see him go, all things considered. In fact, he hadn't wanted to wake up. Because he had been sure as soon as he did, the little blonde would be pushing him out of the door. However she hadn't and Steve didn't question it. He just didn't have the strength at that moment to argue with her again. He didn't want to.

So instead he dressed (remembering to reapply his camo properly), grabbed his gun from their stash and headed out in the crappy pickup truck, not knowing what to expect.

To say Steve was slightly underwhelmed with what he finally found would've been an understatement.

The place had been easy to find, and it certainly wasn't the abandoned warehouse turned rave pit or high tech military facility he had been expecting, quite the opposite in fact. Instead it was an utterly mundane, aged house with a cheap looking chain link fence guarding, complete with cracked paving slabs were a small garden should've been.

_Seriously, after all that... a house?_

Of course the thought had occurred to Steve that that was the whole point.

Big scary buildings and overly noisy nightclubs tended to draw too much attention from the authorities. Whereas small pokey dives in quiet, yet reasonably good neighbourhoods -most likely full of retired old farts- tended to go unnoticed.

_I mean it's a little crappy, but who'd really expect a drug dealer around here?_

Steve lazily patted his coat pockets to check he had remembered to bring his wallet with him, just in case and prayed to god he had enough money.

_Threatening people, whilst good for blowing off a little virus/ sherry induced steam, can be a real pain in the ass…_

The drug of choice he was after would be Ketamine, a garden-variety horse tranquilliser. Popular with the clubbing crowd or so he had been told. When taken in small amounts it could give the user a small high. However unlike most people, Steve used the drug for its original purpose. Both he and Sherry had experimented with various types of drugs to help control his 'Steve-Zilla' episodes, but in the end they found Ketamine worked. It may not have been the most effective compared to other Tranqs, but it was certainly the easiest to get a hold of.

Steve always carried the drug with him. Wherever he went, two syringes with enough Special K to take down at least a stable full of horses were always on hand just in case. Of course Sherry also carried a couple of shots, for those times he wasn't able to take of himself, but they were rarely used. Whilst Ketamine certainly helped when it came to soothing the beast, both only tended to use it as the last resort for fear of Steve's body building a resistance to the drug.

_Which sucks, because with all the shit I have had to put up with for the last two weeks, I could've used something to mellow me out…_

However it didn't make sense.

Since they rarely used the drug, and Sherry was always careful, why would she send him out for more? Steve was pretty sure they had enough on them for the time being to take down a Safari park and besides if this was just a simple drug run, it really didn't explain the way Sherry had been acting.

He stifled another yawn and shook his head to clear of the fog that was tempting him to close his eyes and drift off again. Knowing his luck if he did snooze, even for a moment, he would probably miss what ever it was he was sent there to see. And god only knew what kind of a mood Sherry would be in if he messed this up.

So if it wasn't drugs what could it be?

_"It's for your benefit." What in the hell does that mean?_

True, she had said that. But what exactly was 'it' and how did 'it' benefit him exactly? It was the only reason why he had thought of drugs.

Was it a new contact? A new person to point them in the right direction of… well where ever it was they were heading to next? But if that was the case, why hadn't the blonde told him whom he was supposed to be watching? A name, a photo anything to indicate who or what had to be out there waiting for him and him alone?

Steve let out a fully formed growl and felt the cab reverberate. Frustrated was not the word. He ran a gloved hand through his hair and felt sorely tempted to pull at it.

"Why the hell did I agree to this bullshit any way?" He moaned and twisted his neck at an odd angle and received a satisfying crack in return.

Of course the Tyrant knew exactly why he was sat there in the freezing cold cab. He knew why he had agreed without any question or fuss and he knew why he would endure any hardships, no matter how awful or mind numbingly boring.

_I promised Sherry…_

He felt his cheek flush uncomfortably at the memory of her face the night before. The image of the hurt he had seen in her pale blue eyes, yet again lodged itself in his minds eye. The Tyrant squirmed in his seat.

The redhead really hated to see the blonde woman so unhappy, and he hated it even more because he had caused it. Because it made him unhappy, and if he was unhappy it made Sherry even more unhappy... and so on and so forth.

Even though she had been okay with him at the diner and somewhat more relaxed on the bed, he knew that whatever 'it' was hadn't been solved. It was still there, like some damn elephant in a room and that no one wants to ask why it's there for fear of pissing it off. But Steve had figured whatever 'The Problem' was had something to do with why he had been sent to the house. He hoped that if nothing else, he would find out what had Sherry so spooked.

_Because I'm not quite sure how much more of this I can take…_

Steve sighed restlessly.

And if things couldn't have gotten any worse, before he had left she had done the weirdest thing.

She had hugged him.

Not that being hugged by Sherry was weird, because it wasn't. Steve had lost count of the times they had shared hugs over the years. Hell, he had even thought he had witnessed Wesker being given small, unsuspecting hugs by the smaller blonder from time to time! Although, the older man would never admit to being so weak. Hugs were just a 'Sherry thing'. However this particular one was different.

To Steve it had felt as if Sherry's hug was more of a 'goodbye'. But not the sort of 'goodbye' hug you'd give someone if you were just popping out to the store for milk or nipping off for a quick shower. No, this hug had felt desperate, overly long and the kind of hug you were hesitant to break. But what struck Steve most about that particular embrace was how final it was.

_Like the kind of 'Hug' you give to someone you don't expect to see anytime soon…_

As his thoughts trailed off, Steve felt the same lurch in his heart that he had the night before and a sudden urge to turn the ignition and head straight to the motel filled him. Had he been right about something last night?

_Would she really leave me like that? I mean it's not like we've never argued before, even if I was a total dick to her…_

He sighed again and drummed the dashboard of the truck with his fingers. If Steve had grown a tail that day he was sure it would've been twitching about like a cat's in deep thought. Why was he so damned worried about the small possibility of Sherry disappearing on him any way?

_Because she wouldn't… No way! Not my Sher. Even if she's been acting bat shit crazy for the past few weeks…_

Steve shook his head and scoffed at himself.

_Christ I'm starting to sound like one of those emo-tards in those stupid teeny soaps Sherry likes…_

Steve felt himself calm down a little, feeling utterly stupid again at getting so bent out of shape over something as stupid as a hug. What the hell did he know about hugs anyway? The only hugs he had ever received were from his parents, Claire and Sherry. That hardly made him the 'hug' expert. He snorted and tried to focus on the task at hand.

The Tyrant looked back at the crappy little house and considered his options. Did he stay and wait to see whatever it was Sherry had sent him there to see or did he turn around and head back to the motel and most likely get his head bitten off by an emotionally messed up mini Tyrant? In all honesty Steve didn't like either option, because either way he was still going to end up cold and unhappy. But then he had promised Sherry he would.

_A promise is a promise…_

A thought popped into his mind.

_You know she never said I couldn't knock on the door…_

Steve smirked at his own genius and rubbed his leather clad hands together with satisfaction. He would go and knock, find out whatever 'it' was hiding in that house (even if it meant a little bit of breaking and entering) and be back at the motel in time to smooth things over with the blonde. In Steve's opinion it was a perfect plan, even if it meant stepping out in the cold wintry night.

He checked his gun, wallet and glasses then made his way outside.

"Fuck!" Steve swore as he jogged across the road and slipped soundly pass the gate. As he made his way up the steps to the faded red stained door only two thoughts remained in his head.

Too fucking cold!

And:

_I hope this works…_

However Steve never got to finish the second thought, nor did he get to ring the rather worn out looking brass doorbell. Because had he been paying more attention, Steve would've sensed the person behind the door waiting for him. He would've noticed said person readying themselves to slam the door open and surprise him with a gun. It was only after he felt the cold barrel of a fully loaded gun was pressed roughly against his nose, did Steve realise that perhaps he should've been a bit more careful.

_Oh wow, Bravo Steven! Nice work you douche bag, man if Wesker could see you now…_

"Woah, what the fuck?" He cried and threw his hands into the air in immediate surrender. Not because Steve was particularly worried, but because he had been in too many situations like this before and knew he could easily over power whoever it was before they had a chance to even think about pulling the trigger. Being mutated does have its perks sometimes… "Is this how you treat all the people who ring your doorbell?"

The sound of the trigger being pulled back echoed in his ears.

"Who are you?" A forceful feminine voice barked.

"Wait…" It was a voice he had not heard in eight years and a voice he thought he would never hear again.

"Oh my god…" The russet haired woman dropped the gun slowly to reveal her stunned face. Her ice blue eyes wide with sheer disbelief, breath caught in her throat. "Steve?"

But the Tyrant couldn't form reply. The doorstep was at that moment holding his jaw and his body had completely frozen stiff from shock.

_What the fu-_

"Steve!" The woman cried out loud, eyes glassy and lips quivering as she pounced. Before he knew it, thin arms were wound tight around his abdomen and he was very nearly pulled to the floor by the sheer force of the powerful embrace.

Barely touching her at all, too shocked to do anything more. It couldn't be… It can't…

Instead he just stood there stock still, arms up in surrender, trapped in the most wonderful vice like grip imaginable. Steve wasn't sure what to do; he had imagined this moment so many times in his head before and yet… But now he was there, for real, and he had absolutely no idea. However he managed to find his voice, even if it wasn't anything more other than mumble. And spoke aloud a name he never thought he would utter again.

"Claire?"

* * *

><p><em>Thought it was good? Thought it was bad?<em>

R+R


	4. 4

Disclaimer: All characters are property of Capcom. I don't a thing.

_A/N: Okay guys, this is it. The stuff I never actually published first time round. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Peace and Pies! R.G. xxx_

* * *

><p><strong><span>Promises...<span>**

_By The Redundant Goddess_

_-4-_

"Is it- is it really you?" The auburn haired woman breathed into his neck, sending shivers down his spine that, for once, were not caused by the cold climate.

Steve managed to nod as he continued to stare at her, not sure exactly he was supposed to be doing. The hair, the eyes, that voice; it was really her and yet somehow, having her hold him the way she was...none of it seemed to register as real. Not to mention he couldn't stop shivering...

Then suddenly Claire detached herself from him and brought her hands to her face. Her ice blue eyes widened.

"Oh God, I'm sorry you must be freezing! Come in! Is there anything I can get you, Coffee?"

Although Steve was sure he didn't need any more caffeine, as his heart was going a mile a minute, but found himself nod all the same.

Steve shuffled behind Claire and sighed happily, as warmth, sweet warmth, began to seep into his frozen flesh. Whilst Steve took off his hat and coat -stiff fingers fumbling with the buttons- the first thing he noted about the house was that, whilst looking like a hole, it definitely had a cosy, old, yet impossibly clean smell to it. It reminded him of a comfy old hotel bath robe that still held all of old perfumes from various shampoos and products of its previous hosts. There was another smell, strong and sweet. Rose with denim perhaps? He couldn't quite tell, but he guessed it belonged to Claire. A small smile flittered across his lips, as he continued his investigation.

Much like the outside, the inside of the house wasn't anything to shout about. It wasn't overly homey or stylish; in fact it was rather sterile. It was clear that no one had really lived there for more than was necessary. There were a mixture of furniture's, he guessed had been bought purely out of necessity rather than their aesthetic qualities, because the red-head was fairly certain no sane person would've have chosen the two lime green bargain basement chairs that clearly didn't match the antique coffee table.

_Not that I know about interior design or anything..._

Steve figured that the place was a safe house for the organisation Claire had found herself working for.

_Either that or a friend with really poor taste..._

However, for all its faults, Steve found himself liking the house. It was the sort of place he always imagined he and Sherry would end up in. In fact, he was sure the blonde would've really liked it, minus the horrible chairs of course.

He frowned as he caught himself thinking about the blonde.

_But now is not the time to be thinking about her… no matter how much she really would like this place…_

Behind his cheap plastic shades, the Tyrant moved his attention elsewhere and watched Claire frantically busy herself. Even though Claire was a little older than he had remembered, he decided it suited her. It was as if her body has finally caught up with her metal age, and Claire the woman looked very good indeed. Steve couldn't help himself, as she bent down to clear an armchair of what he thought might be 'work', and let his eyes drink in sight of her heavenly behind.

_She's still got a great ass…_

But it was a fleeting look, as the russet-haired woman had already moved to the kitchen, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

_Man this is awkward..._

Steve's shock had started to dwindle and instead he began feel uncomfortable. Incredibly uncomfortable, to the point where he almost considered hiding. It was far worse than all those times he had gotten undressed for tests the researchers had conducted upon him in the facility. Hell, at least he got used to that after awhile. But this, well, this was something he doubted anyone could ever get used to. It was as if he was his stringy eight year old self again. Gangly, awkward and alone in some stranger's house, whilst his parents talked to whoever it was they needed to talk to. Standing there in Claire's lounge, he didn't know whether to stay where he was, sit or collapse on the floor. Should he look around, should he go check on the coffee, what was he supposed to do?

He was sure the darker haired woman wouldn't want him snooping around; however Steve couldn't help but look for her own personal effects. The only things he could find that were Claire's, other than the messy pile of probably un-finished paper work, and the gun she had left on the coffee table, was a small cluster of silver plated picture frames. One was of Claire and her older brother when they were much younger, another of some blonde man he recognised as the infamous Leon. S. Kennedy, and the last he couldn't quite make out. He tried to move closer to see, but was interrupted by Claire, who had returned with two large mugs of steaming hot coffee.

Steve accepted his with muttered thanks as he followed Claire to the hideous chairs.

But as they sat down beside each other and took the first sip of their drinks, the mother of all awkward silences descended upon them. The atmosphere became charged with a tense, overly nervous energy. Even with the strong aroma of coffee dampening his keen senses, he could still smell Claire's mixed emotions rolling off of her in waves. Fear, anxiety, dread... All present and correct. He could even see sweat form on her shaking brow. Her nervous eyes turned to him, alerted by his own gaze and Claire forced a smile in response. Steve had never seen Claire so nervous.

Of course he wasn't exactly Mr Cool himself.

Steve's heart was at that moment located in his mouth. The Tyrant couldn't stop his left foot from tapping the floorboards, and his skin felt tight and itchy. It was no wonder he could smell Claire's anxiety get worse, it must've looked like he was about to have a stroke. He closed his eyes, started to mentally count down from ten and took as many deep breathes as he could. Because Steve knew if he wasn't careful, another monster from Claire's past was likely to pay a visit.

He growled in the back of his throat.

This was not how he expected to meet Claire again. True, the redhead had had many a fantasy of being reunited with the younger Redfield, most of the earlier ones involving cliché slow motion running and very little clothing. But even in Steve's later, more realistic dreams, it was all smiles, happy tears and laughter, not this anxious standoff. Neither knowing what to do, say or feel. He hated to see Claire so unsure, flustered and god knows what else she was feeling at that moment. No, this really wasn't how Steve would've wanted to have met Claire again, and inwardly cursed Sherry for having forced them together.

_What the hell is she playing at? Is she completely stupid or what? This is a big fucking deal! Fuck I mean, it's not every day you get to meet someone you met on a prison island, went through a zombie-based hell with and only then to mutate die on them nearly a decade ago!_ _A person needs some warning, I mean, what the hell am I supposed to say? I swear to god if this is pay back for all the shit I gave her on the drive here..._

Steve clenched his jaw and could feel himself become more, and more irritated by the blonde, when something occurred to him. Sherry would never willingly do anything to hurt anyone and if she did, inadvertently of course, do so, then she would do everything in her power to make it right. So, this whole thing had to have been planned from the start. The tyrant then wondered if this whole set up had all been the blonde's somewhat, ill conceived attempt at a well meant surprise. He wanted to scoff at the thought, because Steve knew Sherry had tried to do something similar in the past, and that hadn't exactly gone to plan either.

_Seriously, who knew Wesker was so touchy about his birthday?_

Steve frowned and for the hundredth time in the past twenty four hours, he felt guilty. Suddenly a sense of shame filled him, as he realised what it was Sherry had done. That she had found Claire, which was no mean feat considering how long they had both been trying to find her, brought him to her. It had all been for him, and what had he done?

_Bitched, whined and made a total ass of myself that's what! _

Perhaps that was the reason why the blonde Tyrant had been so unhappy of late? It must've been difficult trying to keep something like that a secret, only to be moaned at constantly by the seemingly ungrateful person you were supposed doing it all for. Anyone else would've cracked and told him to go fuck himself, however not Sherry, she had just put up with him. Why? It was just who she was.

The redhead inwardly groaned and desperately wanted to punch himself in the face, hard.

_...I really am an asshole..._

Silently, he made a promise to himself that as soon this was over, he would make it up to the blonde. He wasn't sure how, but he was going to.

_However, first things first, time to break the ice._

"Turns out I wasn't actually dead." Steve choked out all of a sudden, not entirely sure where that had come from. "I mean, after Alexia handed my ass to me that damn virus put me in some sort of self-induced hibernation."

Claire raised an eyebrow and slowly lowered her coffee mug to her lap. Steve on the other hand just shrugged and took another gulp. It was definitely one of the worst ice breakers of all time, however the red-headed male wasn't about to let that stop him, not now his tongue had finally decided to work.

"So...er... How are you?"

Claire smiled sheepishly and looked down at her half empty mug. She looked slightly less uncomfortable than she had done, but not much.

"I'm okay. Work keeps me busy."

"I bet." Steve coughed nervously. He cleared his throat and gave her a serious look. "But I mean you know… you're okay?"

She nodded and gave him another smile, a bit more relaxed but still strained.

"I'm fine."

There was a small pause as both took another slurp of their coffee.

"How did you find me?" She asked, with a hint of concern.

Steve wasn't sure how to answer, because it wasn't him who had found her. However, Steve got the feeling bringing the blonde into the conversation at that point would've been a bad idea, still feeling somewhat guilt ridden. It was then Steve realised that she must've known as much about this as he had. So instead he scratched his head, shrugged and let out a small laugh.

"Where've you been all this time?"

"Here and there."

"But-?"

"You don't really need to know." He said, because Steve didn't want to go into those particulars at that moment. Partly because his earlier memories were hazy at best and partly because the others he could remember, well, contained things he didn't want to talk about with Claire. The woman had her fair share of horror stories, why unload more nightmare inducing bullshit onto her?

"I guess..."

Another awkward silence, another sip of coffee and still way too much tension in the air for Steve's liking. He eyed the gun on the coffee table.

"I never forgot about you."

"Same here, I mean, your kinda hard to forget." Steve grinned back.

_Well, she isn't. The amount of dreams I have had about that ass... Wow, Sherry's right, I am a pervert._

He frowned inwardly.

_And again we're not thinking about her... not now._

"I thought you were dead. I tried to find your body, but…" Claire quietly confessed and offered him a small sad smile.

"I'm here now."

"I can't believe you're really here…"

Steve almost jumped from his seat when he felt the younger Redfield reach for one his leather gloved hands. She gave it a comforting squeeze. Steve felt himself flush as Claire gave him a warm smile.

"You know, you can take your glasses off."

Steve stiffened and fixed his glasses in a nervous reflex, suddenly worried that Claire had caught a glimpse of his freakish red eyes. Of course he had forgotten to put in his contact lenses yet again. He drew back in his seat away from the older woman next to him and shook his head soundly.

"You don't want me to do that." Claire rolled her eyes and reached across with her fingers for his glasses, however Steve's hands shot up to intercept them. The woman was taken a back at his speed, but still tried to argue. The tyrant cut her off.

"Trust me, you really don't."

The older woman pulled back her hands and folded them on her lap. Claire hung her head.

"I'm sorry."

The tyrant raised an eyebrow.

"For what?"

The russet haired woman took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, I never... I couldn't save you. I tried, but I couldn't." The woman choked on a sob and collapsed in her chair. "Oh, Steve I'm so sorry!"

Steve's eyes shot open as he watched Claire break down into tears right in front of him. He'd only seen her cry once before, and it was something he had never wanted to see or be the cause of again.

"Hey, hey hey!" He soothed gently and knelt down in front of her. He captured her hands in his. "Come on now, don't cry. Really, please don't. I know I'm not as good looking as I was, but..."

She laughed and coughed at the same time, and let one of her hands slip out of Steve's grasp to wipe away the tears that had slipped from her eyes. Claire sighed and smiled at the man in the ridiculous glasses. She moved her free hand his cheek, and the Tyrant could see she was taken aback slightly at his cool flesh. However, she kept her hand right where it was.

"Steve..." She breathed.

Suddenly, time seemed to slow down to a crawl, and all Steve could see were Claire's soft teary eyes looking straight into his. He watched as her face seemed to draw near to his, until he could feel her breath on his lips. Steve felt his heart speed up at the close proximity. The way she was leaning down... He looked at his lips.

_Holy shit? Is she gonna...? No, wait... really?_

He swallowed nervously unsure of what to do, or what the hell was happening. This was like a dream come true, however he couldn't remember feeling this nervous or conflicted in his dreams.

Claire moved closer and all Steve could do was sit there, frozen and stare and wait for her lips to touch his.

* * *

><p><em>Good, Bad, Ugly?<em>

R+R


	5. 5

Disclaimer: All characters are property of Capcom. I don't a thing.

_(A/N: Another Chapter I didn't get to publish first time round. Yay! Enjoy! R.G. xxx)_

* * *

><p><strong><span>Promises...<span>**

_By The Redundant Goddess_

_-5-_

Sherry felt drained.

From the moment the crappy pickup truck had left the motel lot, all Sherry had done was pack her bags and set about making the necessary arrangements. It had all been arranged.

Sorted.

Done.

_It scares me how organised I am at times. Christ, I really am like him..._

However when she was ready to go, the blonde found herself alone on the cheap bed, not wanting to move one inch. It was as if the bed had sapped what little remaining strength she might've had left away to nothing.

But as she lay there, the blonde tried very hard to let the ambient sounds of the god-awful motel and its other occupants drown out her own overly demanding thoughts. She may have been near to total mental, if not physical exhaustion, but that little voice inside her brain just wouldn't let up and the same phrase that had lodged itself in her mind just kept repeating itself.

_You're doing the right thing. You're doing the right thing..._

The gaping hole in her heart Sherry had felt consuming her for the past two weeks grew ever more cavernous at the thought. She wiped a stray tear from her cheek and swore softly.

Sherry hated herself more than ever for not being able to leave the room straight away and make the clean break she had promised herself. But in truth she had known that this was probably going to happen. She had known that when the time came she wouldn't want to move, nor would she wish to leave the confines of that cheap motel room. No, Sherry had known all along that the one thing she would want to do was stay right where she was and wait. Wait in case he came back …

_But then, why would he want to?_

From the time they had met, the blonde had understood that she had felt a certain connection with the older boy turned Tyrant. Both came from similar backgrounds, both had lost parents to Umbrella and both had been unwilling participants in experiments that had changed their lives forever. It was only natural to assume they would find some sort of comfort in one another. It was hard at first; both were still distant and raw from their own personal hells. In fact, the very few times they had spoken the meetings never ended well and always descended into childish name calling. But after the incident where Sherry was introduced to Steve's fully mutated form and very nearly lost her life, they finally became friends.

Well, perhaps that was pushing it, but there was a definite bond between them that went beyond simple friendship, and Sherry had liked it. In fact, she had loved it.

For the first time in her life Sherry had someone she could talk freely to about everything and anything with without the constant fear of breaking the official secrets act or getting someone killed. The best part was that the feeling of security she felt worked both ways. When Sherry had told Steve all about her parents and Racoon, Steve had returned the favour and confided in the young girl about what had happened to him. Whilst it was frightening at times, to open up and share things that she had never spoken to anyone else about, except maybe Claire, it had felt great to have someone to trust and to have someone's trust in return.

However, after becoming better acquainted, the then fifteen year-old Sherry Birkin soon realised she had developed a small, harmless crush on the older B.O.W. Of course it helped a lot that Steve was relatively attractive; some would even go as far as to call him 'Cute'. Ashley had.

_But then what would Ashley Graham know? She still has horrible taste in men…_

Even with his blood red eyes, harsh mutations and slightly lecherous nature, Sherry still felt drawn to him. There wasn't a female doctor or lab assistant left that Steve hadn't tried to flirt with, hell he even tried it on with Ada! It was just who he was.

_And that was okay... _

Because Sherry knew that such things as 'crushes' were normal for teenage girls, and that in the grand scheme of things it wouldn't really mean anything, even if she ended up blushing like a moron in front of him, due to the deluge of naughty dreams caused by said crush. Most likely her feelings would wither and fade with time, and everything would go back to normal.

However the feelings didn't wither or fade away, and much like everything else in her life, they simply mutated into something much worse and much more uncomfortable to deal with.

The realisation had come almost two weeks to the day, whilst looking for new places to hide. It was during a lengthy session a small email from one of her more reliable informants within the anti-bio-terrorism agencies had popped up with a lead that would eventually bring them to Colorado. But as the blonde had unzipped, decoded and digested the various pieces of information she had been sent, her heart plummeted, as she suddenly realised what the discovery of Claire Redfield's most recent whereabouts would truly mean.

Steve would un-doubtedly leave her.

Sherry had tired in the past to imagine what it would be like without Steve there, because she had known along their little arrangement of theirs would one day end, and it had been far too painful to fully grasp. However, after she had read that email, the possibility of the red-head leaving her became all the more real. Thanks to her hard work and effort, Steve would be reunited with the woman of his dreams. Sherry had felt her heart begin to break almost instantly.

And there it was.

The simple and yet obvious fact that Sherry was too afraid to admit.

She loved him.

Not in the best friend sort of way nor the schoolgirl crush sort of 'Love' she had once felt. No, this was the terrifyingly, heart stoppingly, real thing. Sherry Birkin, now twenty years old, was truly and utterly head over heels for her best friend.

However, during her twenty years of life, Sherry had learned one important fact about herself. All the people she had ever cared for or loved had either left her, died- or worse still- injected themselves with their lives work and tried to kill her. Thus, she had learned from an early age that becoming too attached to anyone was a bad idea and, most importantly, that she was always going to end up alone.

It was something she had gotten used to over the years; having never been paid much attention by anyone, especially her parents. She had learnt how to cope, how to be a good and helpful person. Because no matter how much she wanted to scream, shout or just flat out beg for someone to see her, she knew it wouldn't have made any difference. Her parents were just always far too busy with their research. That's not to say they didn't love her, no Sherry had never thought for one moment that they didn't. They always smiled at her when she brought home a good report card or gave her kind words of thank when she brought home a new creation she had made just for them. It was just... that deep down Sherry knew that she wasn't what they had truly wanted. She was just what they had ended up with.

But she had loved them all the same.

And then the Racoon City Outbreak had happened.

Her parents were among the thousands that had perished during the viral outbreak, only they were killed by their own hideous creations. Yet somehow she had survived. Sherry knew she had the young college student and the rookie cop to thank for that. Both had been so incredibly patient with her, especially Claire. The young red head, even though caught up in a situation where helping the weak would've almost certainly cost her, her life, had taken the time to save the overly quiet twelve year old. Sherry remembered how oddly pleasant it had been. To feel so protected and so taken care of, even if she had somehow managed to get infected by her father under Claire's care, it was still something she had rarely felt. In the few hours they spent together, Sherry had become awe struck at just how capable and caring someone could be, even in the face of utter hell. It was little wonder why Sherry had let herself get carried away in the chaos and let herself believe that Claire would always be there for her.

But in the end, she knew she would wind up alone, again.

And when the time came to separate and go back to the real world, when Claire went to find her older brother and Leon had handed her over the proper authorities, Sherry never questioned it or even felt a single negative feeling towards either of them.

Even if she would come to think Leon was a bit of a tool later on in life…

Whilst it had hurt, as she sat by the window in that military run orphanage, waiting for the sound of a motor cycle to come rumbling up the overly long drive, she understood why Claire never came. She got it, totally and in the end Sherry was just glad to be alive. Claire was just a college student after all. A young woman, barely out of her teens whom couldn't very well look after an adolescent whilst continuing the search for her missing, presumed dead brother. It wasn't logical, it wasn't safe and in all honesty, it wasn't the younger Redfield's responsibility.

Sherry didn't resent her for that.

Sherry pictured the woman she had met all those years ago, her stomach began to twist and knot uncomfortably, her eyes narrowed and she started to gnaw on her lip, hard.

However, she did resent the older woman for the monumental hold she still had on Steve's heart.

In her mind she could just imagine what the two of them were 'getting up' to. The talking, the laughing, the kissing… and it made her sick to her stomach. It made her want to scream, to cry and curse all at the same time. It even made her feel darker things that she really wished she hadn't been able to. Like the feeling the blonde could've quite happily murdered everyone within a twenty-mile radius, bare handed without even batting an eyelid. And know her luck, with all the viruses she had been exposed to; cause a biohazard in the process.

_Jealousy is a disgusting feeling_, the blonde concluded and let out a strangled moan.

She hated the way it twisted people into irrational, hate filled creatures. The way it made people act out and behave in the most worst of ways all, for no reason other than the selfishness of the human heart.

Yes, jealously truly was a disgusting emotion.

If she hadn't hated herself before, she certainly did now.

_You've got_ _no reason what so ever to be jealous! This is your own entire stupid fault any way … stupid, STUPID!_

They weren't even like _that_.

They had never been like that.

In all the time they had known each other, Steve had never shown any signs of wanting anything more... intimate. And Sherry had been fine being friends. Although, sometimes it felt more than that, sometimes it felt like they were almost together.

Much like the times in the facility when she had woken from a particularly vivid nightmare or if Steve felt too cold, they would crawl into the other's bed, curl up together and talk until they both fell into a peaceful slumber. It was a tight fit and slightly uncomfortable at first, but after a while it just became an accepted fact that they would sleep in the same bed. Especially once they had escaped.

After that, it was rare to not have the red head beside her when she slept. To have those cool arms wrapped securely around her, to hear him snore not so softly in her ear or feel the occasional press of his lips against her neck or shoulder.

She scowled as she felt her stomach flutter and her heart ache all at once.

_It doesn't mean a thing. He was asleep. People do weird things in their sleep…_

Logically she knew that it hadn't, but logic hadn't stopped her from enjoying it. At times when she felt him unconsciously pull her closer to him and press a quick kiss to the back of her neck, she wondered what would happen if she did just give into temptation, and kiss him back. Would it be like her dreams when she was younger? Would she kiss him back? So tempting... But she knew it wouldn't be right.

_And why should I have done? It's not like he likes me like that. I'm just some stupid, selfish kid he wound up with. I don't deserve him! Besides, I'm no Claire Redfeild…_

Sherry flinched as she felt her finger nails dig into her flesh and warm, wet rivulets of blood seep through and stain the sheet below. She cursed and looked at her fingers, and watched the cuts begin to heal.

_Great, now I'm gonna have to take these sheets with me and burn them. Why can we never leave a place with the deposit?_

But, she had made that promise...

Before they escaped the clutches of Wesker, she had made Steve a promise. She had promised that one day they would find Claire, together, and all would be right with the world. Sherry remembered when she had made it, as if it were yesterday. She had never seen him so broken, so lifeless, it had scared her. So the young girl had held him, cared for him and promised him the one thing she knew he would want to live for the most, to see Claire again. It worked. Steve had held on and endured, all for the promise of being one day reunited with the love of his life.

The blond had every intension of keeping her word. Because in the dark and murky world they had found themselves in, promises were so easily broken. Like the promises to spend more time with her, that her parents made so many times or the promises of 'No more Tests' her 'Uncle' would break or even the promises of love and care that Claire had made back in Raccoon City. All so easily made and all just as easily broken...

_...But not this one..._

However, once they had escaped and as the years progressed, Sherry had found her promise being pushed further and further from her mind. That wasn't to say she had stopped looking for Claire all together. It was just that most of her effort was focused on keeping Steve safe and staying under the radar. Or at least that was what she had told herself at the time.

But then the email had come and changed everything, and Sherry found herself faced with a dilemma.

Did she give Steve the information on Claire or not?

A better person would've made the right decision the moment the email had arrived, however Sherry found herself not knowing what to do next.

So she decided to do what she thought was best, and decided engross herself with work and ignore everything else, including Steve, until she had figured out her next move. But it was hard going.

On more than one occasion, the thought of not mentioning to Steve about Claire had occurred to her. It was so tempting, to just delete the evidence and pretend as if she had never known. And to her shame on more than one occasion the blond had almost done just that.

She really was becoming way too much like Wesker for her own good.

But she never did, her somewhat shaky conscience wouldn't let her.

However, although Sherry never gave into the sickening impulse to delete the email, she found that she could never gather the courage to face him with the news that she had found Claire. Whilst the blonde was sure that the older tyrant's reaction would be nothing short of ecstatic... Sherry didn't think she could bear it. It would be the final nail in the coffin, the straw that broke the camel's back and the thing that would really prove once and for all that Steve truly did not care about her that way.

It didn't help matters that Steve had pretty much left her to her own devices as he usually did when she was upset, giving her the space and time she needed to sort herself out. On the one hand Sherry felt hurt that he hadn't approached her, and on the other, Sherry felt so incredibly guilty, because she knew Steve was just doing what he thought she wanted. Giving her the space and time she needed to sort her head and feelings out. He was doing it for her…

_I really don't deserve him…_

But when he had finally had enough and dared to ask her what the matter was; what could she say?

_Oh yes, I'm just a little upset because I've actually managed to find the love of your life, but the thing is I don't want to tell you because I'm in love with you and I want you all to myself, but I know that's wrong so, I'm hiding myself away like a coward until I finally do the right thing, no matter how much it might kill me…._

Of course she denied there was anything wrong, because in her mind there wasn't. Only the self inflicted, ever growing hole in her heart and the pain of knowing he would soon be gone. But what hurt the most was the look on his face when she ignored his pleas to talk to him. Sherry hated herself more for that than anything else. Because it made her want to give into her selfish feelings even more.

So after two weeks of indecision, self loathing and lip biting, Sherry bought a cheap Truck and whisked them off to Colorado without so much as a word.

The blonde had decided that the older B.O.W. would be better off with Claire for more reasons than she could count. That the only reason why she still hadn't told Steve of what she was up to was because had wanted it to be a surprise. And that once Steve had gone, it would be time to move on by herself and let him be happy. Or at least that's what she tried to convince herself on the way there.

In truth she was taking the cowards' way out.

Sherry cringed at her own wickedness.

_I really am a terrible person…_

But in the end, she had done the right thing. Sherry had given her friend the information he needed to see Claire again. She had kept her promise.

_And that's all that matters right? Steve will be happy, Claire will be happy. Everyone will be happy…_

She sighed quietly and felt a lump form in her throat.

…_everyone but me that is._

As she lay there, in the quiet, tears streaked down her pale face. Her mind flooded with images of happier times. Sherry found it difficult to believe that only an hour ago, they had been on the bed together peaceful and happier than she had felt in a long time. For one last time, they were together.

Suddenly, the sound of a Taxi horn bellowed outside.

_It's time..._

Sherry pushed herself up of off the bed and whipped the stray tears from her eyes. Steadily she crossed the floor to the door and quietly picked up her belongings. She opened the stained door and took one last look at the motel room.

She smiled sadly.

"I..." Sherry whispered. "...I'm doing the right thing."

And with that, the blonde turned off the lights, shut the door for the last time and made her way silently to the taxi.

* * *

><p><em>Sad? Emo? Not Sure?<em>

R+R


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